The Gally Blog

Unlike the rest of the world, I never really get all that aroused by the entire Olympic games. What, we need to have some queens ski down a hill in order to determine national supremecy? I mean, I get the appeal. Fighting for worldwide recognition is pretty sweet (and sticking it to those damn Ruskies is always a good time) but I just don’t know if those national bragging rights still exist in today’s global climate, especially when there’s no Cold Wars, and the entire world is way more jacked for World Cup soccer. That, and like any other asshole American, if it’s not football I don’t really care.

Unless it’s figuring skating. Because once those blades hit the Olympic ice, there aren’t enough ice cubes in my freezer to keep my boner contained.

I can’t explain this romance I have for Olympic figure skating, and really, it’s ONLY Olympic figure skating. What draws me to it are the same things that draw people to any other Olympic sport. Those reasons range from the potential of someone falling and ruining their life long dreams to the tight fitting outifts that are worn by the (probably) 14 year old Chinese girls. RAWR! But you can find that type of appeal in downhill skiing, gymnastics, swimming, and any other number of random Olympic games. Yet for some reason, figuring skating holds my interest more than any of these, HANDS DOWN.

Partially, I feel that this is because of it’s uniqueness. It’s kind of undeniably “Olympicy”, if I can go Peter King on you. To me, anyway, it’s the one competition that I would never watch anywhere else. National figuring skating competitions? That’s truck stop gay. Disney on Ice? That’s pedophile weird. Ice skating during the holiday season? Fuck your glory hole, you bastard, I’m drinking scotch inside. But Olympic pairs figuring skating? MOVE OVER ON THE COUCH, WIFEY! MY NIGHT IS PLANNED!

This interest doesn’t really make any sense. I have no idea what the judges look at or what makes a good routine a good routine and not just a mediocre blog post. I don’t even know what the numbers mean at the end of the scoring. 74.56? Ok. Even my individual rooting interest is totally absent. If it were Americans contending I don’t think it’d make me care anymore who won. But I would still give up 15 minutes of masturbating to fake Blake Lively nudes in order to catch these routines, I swear to you.

And for some reason I am ok with all of this. I don’t want to know what goes on or why. I don’t want to watch figuring skating once a month. Every four years is good enough for me, and being a complete ignorant fuck makes it even more enjoyable. Snowboarding can go suck a fat Kevin Smith Wang as far as I’m concerned, because it’s just getting in the way of my confusing, yet comforting, love for Olympic figure skating.

In before #Youregay jokes.

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